


Be Good to Momma

by karrenia_rune



Category: The Last Unicorn - Peter S. Beagle
Genre: Gen, POV Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 20:30:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3354278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrenia_rune/pseuds/karrenia_rune





	Be Good to Momma

Title: Be Good to Momma

Fandom: The Last Unicorn (movie verse)

Author: karrenia (Karen)

Character: Mommy Fortuna

Rating: General Audiences

Recipient: for Haku kaen's previously filled multifandom

'childhood favorites.' request.

Request Details: http://community.livejournal.com/fic_on_demand/1143044.html

Disclaimer: The Last Unicorn is the original concept of its creator Peter S. Beagle as are the characters of Mommy Fortuna, Schemdrick, and all other characters who appear her or are mentioned.

"Be Good to Momma" by Karrenia

Somehow when it rains, correction, make that poured down in torrents with the lightning ripping and roaring like towering streaks of light through the pewter-colored skies above; that is when she felt the elements like never before.

Her hair, what's left of it, sticks to her scalp in matted down patches like quack grass and she tilted her head up to watch the sky display.

'It's not magic, but its own way, nature in both its ferocity and its tame versions, can be, quite,' thought Mommy Fortuna as she reached up with one hand, the other occupied in keeping her billowing robes from tearing loose; 'could be quite, well, beautiful.'

It has been a very long, long time since anyone would even consider using that particular adjective to describe an old hag like her even remotely comely; still, there was a time when she had been.

It feels somewhat odd, thinking back this way.

If she thought about, and it was not very often that she had leisure to do so, that even as a young girl born and raised in the wagons of the nomadic gypsies, she had been an awkward, lanky thing, subject to falls and an insatiable curiosity.

Raised as she had been, like many children in a gypsy caravan, her natural bent for curiosity combined with a razor-sharp intelligence naturally led her to study of all things, well, almost all things; she allowed a small, wry smile to escape her lips. There had a boy or two brought into the mix that had distracted from what she had later come to realize was her true passion: magic.

Magic came in all forms, and it was a very taxing discipline, demanding an expenditure of both body and soul.

Mommy Fortuna shook her head in an attempt to clear it of the inevitable cobwebs brought on by allowing herself to indulge in reminiscing in old memories that were now as dried up and shriveled as her old body.

"There's no rest for the wicked," she laughed, a wavering sound that disturbed the harpy in its case not far from where she stood in the downpour.

"Whoever came up with that saying should either take a bow or be taken out back and shot.

Whichever is the case Mommy knows a thing or two about how the world spins and why, does she not, my pet?"

She shrugged again and drew her robes tighter around her short frame.

Stepping carefully through the growing puddles in the spongy ground she approached the harpy's cage and peered in through the slatted bars.

"You hear me, and you hear me good, don't think for a moment that I don't know what's going on that bird-brain of yours. I'll have my own, and that's a fact."


End file.
